You're a rare god to your mother,
You took the tears of your father.
You're the basket sav'ng mother's tears-
You're the visitor all these years.
You're the knuckling kicks in her womb
You now create yourself a grim tomb,
You're the cause of their smiling smiles-
You're the source of their tears; weird smiles.
You're her joy and her hurtful pain,
You're such a needless useful pain.
Stop your scary barks at my back!
Abiku, go and ne'er come back!
Your crying hum- a weird bark to me
Your beaten blue black flesh scares me,
Go and save your breath with mild death-
Don't you want to lie at six depth?
"words from the innocent mind"
Philip Peace